…feast
with us, this lucrative sorrow, this
blighted midday: our lines suffering, our garbage exposed, and pushing forward
with pride: such hubris, or midnight blues, a bit snug and comfy: our Prince
channel, our deep infatuation, or realization so cruel we feel miserable: at
banks those thoughts, at kids acting perfection, or musicality upon a lesion:
our drums beating, our cymbals clanging, or saxophones blaring in Latin: this
African leakage, this European education, this tall countenance: as infused by
Love, that self-conscious aura, to realize, He
has thoughts: our burning hearts, this flush of fear, those
purple-red-beige eyes: as cocaine’d out, searching for murder, at eighty years
by cells: those tender marks, this fueled lyrical, this caress, this stress,
this best mentality: so branded, so lost, and so intended those remarkable
curses: that anathema, those rules, this exoneration—as cut and bleeding, to sip
our blood, that brine taste: as worlds scooped, or feelings coup’d, or roofs
uprooted: this ceiling sky, those falling diamonds, at tyranny laughing with
Jesus: this fretted situation, while growing incessantly, to give when time
offends our disjunction…this man with problems, this therapist with gravel,
this psych with appeals: our brains shifted, as no matter rehabilitation, where
souls were destined as reprobate: this deep wound, this penchant, wistful
dream, this gang of terrible brain flies: this milky mucus, this bottle of
Mucinex, and nothing is clearing our sinuses: as bullets hit, this flip and
roll, at tournaments responding by silence: this loud communication, this term
in turmoil, or spinning for livid a curse: to die for you, to come back for
you, as respected for keeping distance from you: our shingles blinking, our
chandeliers winking, or a thousand dollar plate of shrimps….
I
bribed winter, I seduced summer, and by autumn I felt alone: this fool maniac,
this buffer as laughing, where reality swears—this man a delinquent: that bag
of lettuce, those jars of sauce, at better for worse—this universe afraid, this
man dying, this daughter to caves: to ask assistance, this measure of bones,
this sinew stretched and abused: those relapsed curses, this mother to dreams,
while insisting this blank distance: our thoughts roaming, this woman at
charms, this soul at arms: that last bottle, that wrist chunking liquor, or
chugging another person’s hostility: this self-absorbed beaut, those raging
eyeballs, while gazing at abandonment: our confused souls, our confused
reluctance, or this telekinesis: that skyfall, that moon-deadness, or this
woman a dream for certain souls: our mad havens, this University as distorted,
or this renounced belief in making our worlds: that rose for Mary, that tomb
for Magdalene, or death for souls yearning fire!
…to
sip millponds, to rethread algae, or to find this space where misery delivers:
as cursed for Christ, or livid by ruins, at daughters minding our business: this trestle leaking, this
brain exploding, this resurrection feeling good: at dear frustration, removed
from self, and feeling agony: those tulips discolored, this daisy at reminders,
this book your face: to meet so few, as reminded those hips, or that
self-evaluation: as it lurks, this meditative countenance,—where something
intrudes…this thinking vessel, those vibrant tavern habits, to need this loss
if but to survive—as God dies, as Jesus intrudes, while our Ghost is legendary:
to hold soil, to feel roots, to dig nine feet into hearts: that underground,
those winter tears, or this man so alert it hurts: our roaming mothers, as
hating our fathers, but devoid of a clear conscience: that bold endeavor, those
failed attempts, or daughters so blind it feels normal: our days at venom, to
knit a pardon, while Jurisdiction dictates this hateful swarm: those bees
laughing, those bees stinging, this cheetah giggling: as leopards retreat,
humans advance, to climb a tree invaded by ants: as grazing with deers, this
spectrum of miseries, or this fool hoping where reality has clashed…!
